


Kings Cross, Again

by This Waiting Heart (ThisWaitingHeart)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (you have been warned), Character Death, I'm Sorry, M/M, Other, i have no idea how to tag this, the relationship is only there if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 19:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14026707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisWaitingHeart/pseuds/This%20Waiting%20Heart
Summary: This is a drabble I wrote in 2015 after reading Deathly Hallows and Astrid Lindgren's The Brothers Lionheart. It's not a happy story, but maybe a hopeful one.You have been warned.(In lieu of an update of my actual wip.)





	Kings Cross, Again

Desperate, Draco tries Disapparating again.

It doesn’t work; the air still feels just as solid as it had when they had first noticed the Fiendfyre closing in around them.

“Now what do we do?” he asks, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. He’s not succeeding; he can tell by the sad look Harry graces him with. His eyes, bright and large in his soot-blackened face, flicker momentarily to the precipice before he fixes them back on Draco’s face. It’s the only way that is not already enclosed in flames, and Draco gets his meaning immediately.

“Aren’t you scared?” he whispers, tongue ghosting over chapped lips, as if that would help with the coughing, and shaking, and the urge to cry.

Harry shakes his head, a tiny, sad smile lighting up his countenance for a moment.

“I have died before.”

Draco stares at him, really taking him in for the first time in forever, it seems.

Harry’s face is streaked with grime and soot, and both his hair and eyebrows are singed in places where sparks have been caught in them. His hands have started blistering where they have gotten in contact with hot stones and flames as they had tried to out-climb the fire, and Draco knows he can’t look much better. He doesn’t look down to check, though, because he has to keep his eyes fixed on Harry’s, anchoring him in a world that is mere seconds away from being turned upside down.

“Does it hurt?” Before he can stop himself, the question has passed his lips, and Draco wants to slap himself for it.

“Dying? Not at all,” Harry says. “Quicker and easier than falling asleep.” The sad smile is back on his face, and for a moment Draco wonders whether he’s quoting someone.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, and now it is Draco’s turn to nod. He hadn’t known that he did, not really, until this very moment, but right now there is no doubt left. He does trust Harry, and he would follow him anywhere. It’s a scary thought, but also one that is oddly reassuring.

When Harry grabs his hand, Draco doesn’t protest, and together they walk over the precipice.

***

Everything is white and clean, illuminated by a soft, bright light that swathes their surroundings in a blurry haze and makes it difficult to make out anything specific.

They seem to be in a building of sorts, a long corridor, or maybe a platform. When Draco recognizes the place, he can not suppress a spike of anger.

“ _This_ is death? Are you _kidding_ me, Potter? It’s a bloody train station!”

Harry, to his chagrin, has the audacity to just nod, and smile. “Hmhm, yes. King’s Cross, actually. But it’s also a gateway, and in-between-place, if you like.”

“You’ve been here before.” It’s not a question, and Draco makes sure that his inflections communicate exactly that. He gets another nod in return.

“Yes.”

“And last time you came back?”

“I did.”

“And this time?” Draco thinks he knows the answer, but he has to make absolutely sure.

Harry’s lips curve into that enigmatic smile again, and then, very slowly, he holds out his right hand. The fact that it’s clean and free of burns barely registers in Draco’s mind, immediately chased away by what follows the gesture.  

“This time, we go on.”

It is easier the second time, and Draco is grateful for the steadying grip of Harry’s hand in his own when their surroundings start to shift and blur, and vanish completely.

As they walk through the white haze, other shapes take form.

“Can you see that, Harry?” Draco asks, eyes wide with wonder. “I think it’s Hogwarts!”


End file.
